


내 아버지 (my father)

by lydtograce



Series: dynamics [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Parents, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Internalized Homophobia, Kinda, M/M, Parenthood, Single Parents, Teenage Rebellion, hyuck is a bit of an angsty boy, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 06:17:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16655800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydtograce/pseuds/lydtograce
Summary: in which johnny seo's son is developing into a problem child, and he's building quite a rapport with the boy's teacher - after all, they might as well be friends if they're seeing each other so often.





	내 아버지 (my father)

**Author's Note:**

> i intended to focus on johnkun but kind of ended up more exploring johnny and hyuck's relationship so sorry abt that

“Mr Seo! Thanks for seeing me-” the man trails off, as Johnny trudges into the room, and the taller is already aware of the unspoken word. It’s  _again_ , pretty obviously. He’s been in this room too many times over the past few weeks. “Kun, call me Johnny. We see each other often enough that we can class ourselves as friends, so you drop the Mr Seo thing.” He knows the other man will stick to formalities; this is, what? The fourth time he’s told him that he’s actually  _allowed_  to call him Johnny? Maybe one day he’ll get through.  

“Yeah, yes... Of course...” Faint mumbling emit from the teacher’s lips as Johnny passes him by, he moves to shut the door, before taking his seat at the desk in the far-right corner of the room. Johnny’s beat him there, and is already seated across from him when he lowers into his chair.  

“I got your favourites, went shopping yesterday just to restock,” a light smile plays across his face, and Kun dips a hand into the drawer to his left, withdrawing a purple packet of biscuits and sliding them across the table. Johnny tears at the corner, and withdraws a single snack, eyebrow perked, “How do you know they’re my favourites?” There’s an edge to his voice that allows Kun – though his gaze is stilled fixed on the chest of drawers – to be aware of the smirk present across the other man’s lips. As he turns back, he matches said grin, “Every time I have these you get through about three quarters of the packet, when I have any other type you barely touch them.” Matter of fact tone evident in his voice, a coral hue rises to dust the apples of the Seo male’s cheeks, fingers darting to snatch another biscuit. Nodding in acknowledgement towards the teacher, he inquires a “You noticed that?” of the other. Kun’s reaction is a cleared throat, and Johnny isn’t at all disappointed that the other man didn’t even  _slightly_  flush. He swears. 

“Donghyuck wrote his chemistry teacher’s phone number on the cubicle doors in the female teacher’s bathroom. Not only is that a breach of privacy for the teacher, but it’s a safe guarding issue since he was in the female teacher’s toilets. When asked why, he said – and this is a direct quote-” the teacher leans across his desk, to observe the report laid out before him. Johnny holds his breath. “Maybe if he got some action he wouldn’t be such a stuck up dick.” The held breath is released in a sigh, and the father’s gaze falls to the desk. He can feel Kun’s apologetic gaze on the top of his head, “He apologized for the swearing, but not for the actual... action.” 

A hand lands on Johnny’s shoulder, and it brings the man to raise his head, “Donghyuck isn’t a bad kid. You and I both know that. But recently...” The hand moves, and the teacher grasps it with the other, resting his clasped pair of appendages against the table. Johnny feels its absence in a slight chill against the skin of his shoulder.  “He’s gone off the rails. I don’t know how to say it more delicately. His grades are going down, he’s in detention basically every day...” As a father, he feels as if he’s failed, and the apology spoken in the Chinese male’s stare really doesn’t help anything – even though he knows it’s intended to. Johnny sighs, heavily. “I’ll talk to him, Kun. I’ll try and find out what’s going on. I swear... something’s up. This isn’t like him.” 

His son has always been cocky; one to speak his mind. But he's never been blatantly disrespectful, he’s never gone out of his way just to break the rules. Johnny has been trying for weeks to get to the bottom in this sudden change in his son’s attitude – to no avail. Seeming to understand Johnny’s exhaustion with the situation, the teacher smiles. It's a nice smile – it's toothy and exaggerates the plumpness to his cheeks. Kun looks nice smiling. Johnny smiles back.

“I hope the situation gets better. I for one can’t wait till we get the real Donghyuck back. Quite like that kid, after all.” A laugh, and there’s a weird fluttering in the taller man’s chest. Strange. “See you next week, Kun.” Following the shaking of their hands across the desk, Johnny stands, brushing the biscuit crumbs from his lap onto the carpet with only a minimal grimace. “Most likely. See you next week, Johnny.” 

And maybe,  _maybe_ , that ‘Johnny’ is ringing in his head the entire car ride home. 

* * *

“Hyuck, put your laptop to the side for a minute. We need to have a conversation.” 

His son breathes out a huff, and continues on to insert a pair of earphones. They’re unfamiliar; a purple pair that Johnny doesn’t recall ever purchasing. 

“Hyuck,” ignorance is the response offered – his son’s fingers even dare to raise the volume on his device. His father can hear the faint beats drumming through his son’s ears at this point. “ _Donghyuck_ _._ ” A gaze cranes to meet his, and the younger’s eyebrows bounce in a gesture almost daring. Johnny doesn’t offer a fourth chance. His parenting runs on a ‘three strikes and you’re out’ basis, and Donghyuck’s out is realized as Johnny surges forth to tug the earphones free of his ears, pulling the laptop from his lap and balancing it on the opposing arm of the sofa. A whine escapes the boy, silenced by the narrowed gaze peering down at him. 

“I spoke to your teacher today. Mr Qian?  _Again_. This is getting ridiculous, Donghyuck. That’s, what? Six times this  _month_? It’s the  _thirteenth_. What’s going on?” Silence. “I know I’m your dad, and I know sometimes it may feel like I'm... far away, or whatever, but you can tell me anything. You know that, yeah?” Where originally his tone had been authoritative, now it was affectionate. He was forever a good cop before a bad cap. Perhaps that’s why Donghyuck had spiralled the way he did. “If you don’t respond soon, I’m gonna look like a crazy person talking to myself.” A hand is rest against his son’s shoulder, and that is when the boy responds. His body jerks in attempt to rid himself of his father’s gesture, and he pushes away from the sofa, standing with incredible and unnecessary force. “I-I can’t talk to you about this. You wouldn’t get it. I’m... I can’t talk to you about it.” There’s no attempt at contact made again, from either side. They simply talk, and Johnny can’t really mask the hurt in his voice, just as much as Donghyuck struggles to shield the upset in his own trembling tone, “I’m your dad. You really can tell me anything, please...” It’s not as if they’re arguing, but they’ve never really spoken in this kind of way to each other, and it feels painful – as if they’re both fragile figurines, teetering on the edge of a shelf overlooking a seventy-foot drop. “Dad, just leave me alone. You can’t help on this one.” Donghyuck moves to push past his father, raising his laptop from its perch upon the sofa and hooking it under his arm, “You won’t get it, just leave me alone. I’m going to Renjun’s.” 

Johnny knows he’d get it. He knows he would... Donghyuck just has to: “Tell me, please. I can help you, Hyuckie. I swear I can.”  

The words are an obvious mistake before they’re even fully out; the delicate situation souring further as the younger of the pair cranes his head – peering at his father in a way that seemed almost confused: “Leave me alone! Don’t you get it? I don’t  _want_ you to help me! I don’t even want you to talk to me! I’m doing fine! You’re just realizing that you’re hardly around, so now you’re trying to make up for being the shit father you are!” Is that what this is about? Johnny worked nights – it's difficult, nowadays, for him to spend time with his son – but he always ensures there’s someone with the boy, usually Jaehyun or Doyoung. Donghyuck is never alone, Johnny makes certain of that. But it’s not the same as himself being present, he knows that. “Mind your language! I’m sorry, I’m trying to be more present... I’m being moved onto the day shifts so I can spend more time with you, I...” Talking and explaining only seems to anger the teen more, and if this was a cartoon, there would definitely be piping hot steam bursting free of Donghyuck’s ears. His countenance was flushed a bright shade of cherry red, and his eyes shone. They were wet. “It’s not that! See, you don’t understand anything! My business isn’t anything to do with you, so stop sticking... stop sticking your  _fucking_  nose into my shit! You don’t get anything about my life right now, and you don’t deserve to, because you’re a shit dad and you’re making my life into complete shit!” Outburst suitably over, Donghyuck breathes out - his exhale is incredibly shaky, “I’m going to Renjun’s.” 

Johnny startles forward, yanking the laptop from his son’s grasp, and staring down at him. That outburst, that’s not Donghyuck. Not at all. Similarly, Johnny’s response is not Johnny. Not at all. 

“Go to your room, Donghyuck. You aren’t going to Renjun’s. If you  _dare_  to leave the house at  _all_ , unless it’s for school, you will be in a world of trouble. Go to your bedroom right now, and don’t come out.” 

And Donghyuck goes, but he doesn’t forget to hurl an insult over his shoulder as he does so. Johnny confiscates his phone, tucking it into his bedroom drawer alongside his laptop, and the purple earphones he still doesn’t recognise.   

* * *

“Hey, you okay?”

Usually, when he enters Kun’s office, he’s greeted with a bright greeting of ‘Mr Seo!’, and welcomed into the room in a manner equally upbeat – so this quiet tone, speaking what appeared to be genuine concern... It really threw him, until he realized that he looked like genuine shit, and any decent human being would question whether he was alright. The bags under his eyes were wide enough to be suitcases, and he’s pretty sure his gaze was bloodshot. His cheeks were swollen, and his hair lay atop his head in messy formation. He’d completely forgotten to brush it down neatly. Rather than responding with a dismissive ‘peachy!’, Johnny opts to move into the room and carefully close the door behind him, lean against it, and then proceed to break down in his own hands – body wracked by heavy sobs.

He’s a joke, he really is. An adult man having a crying fit in his son’s teacher’s office, having been called in to discuss his son’s shitty behaviour, which is a result of him being a fucking awful father.  His life's truly a joke.

“I’m sorry,” gaze pulled free of his own hands, he peers across at the teacher before him. The other man is vaguely blurred, obviously due to the tear stains obscuring Johnny’s stare, “I've had a rough week. And yeah, I know it's Monday, but let me have this.” Kun laughs lightly, before his fingers curl about the taller man’s wrist, and he tugs him into a tight hug. Johnny restrains the urge to embed his head in the crook of the teacher’s neck and instead rests it against his shoulder, breathing in shaky breaths with the intention of calming himself. A hand is rubbing circular motions into his back, a voice is whispering comfort to him, and when a pair of lips accidentally skim the shell of his ear, his breath hitches and he pulls away. Base of his hand rubbing into his eyes, the man blinks speedily, “Sorry, about that. Donghyuck and I... We had an argument. We haven’t spoken since Friday night. That’s... That’s the whole weekend.” Of course, Kun knows that’s the whole weekend, Johnny isn’t sure why he added that unnecessary explanation.

“Take a seat, Mr S-” he catches himself, nodding, “Johnny.” The visitor complies, and so does the host – the pair take turns staring at their hands, unsure as to how they could return to the original point of the meeting. Johnny takes control of that situation, considering he's the one who shoved it off-track anyway; “What did Donghyuck do?”

It’s Monday. The school day isn’t even over. They’ve barely been in school five hours, and already Johnny’s been called in. The behaviour issues his son’s presenting... they’re getting _bad_. But, he supposes, it could be worse. No physical injury has occurred at his hand as of yet.

“He got in a fight.”

Scratch that. It’s definitely worse.

“Donghyuck got in a fight? What happened? With who? I need to talk to the other kid’s parent! Like, right now! We need to discuss what happened, and if Hyuck started it,” which he probably did, “Then he’s gonna apologize to the kid and their parent!” Something he’s never condoned is fighting. In self-defence, sure, but with Hyuck’s current track record – it's pretty certain that this wasn’t an act of self-defence. “Kun, what happened?” Subject of inquiry – Qian Kun – was pretty quiet, and he remained so as he withdrew yet another pack of biscuits from his side drawer, and slid them across the desk to Johnny. His fingers drummed against the oak of the table that separate them, and he breathed out a sigh. “He got in two, technically. But the second was self-defence, and both sides were unharmed. That’s proven, so that’s not really an issue with the school. Some kid calling him names, like... Ho- Never mind. The first, however, was completely random. The two exchanged some... heated words, from all accounts, then Donghyuck started hitting him. It was witnessed by the entire canteen, effectively.” Fingers moving more frantically, Kun opts to draw his hand away from the table, silencing the dull thuds of impact his digits were making. “The boy he fought was Huang Renjun. That name familiar?”

There’s a narrowed gaze fixed on him, and Johnny frowns in bewilderment, “Huang Renjun is... He’s Hyuck’s best friend.” Johnny hasn’t ever met the boy, but he’s heard enough of him. Whenever Donghyuck leaves the house he calls out a ‘going to Renjun’s!’, whenever Johnny passes by the door to Donghyuck’s room on the way to work he more often than not hears a ‘Night, Renjun!’ being yelled at his son’s laptop screen. Even on Friday night, when they’d been arguing, Hyuck had wanted to go to Renjun’s. “Why would they fight?”

Leaning back in his chair, Johnny observes that Kun looks defeated – and it upsets him. “I really... I really don’t know, Johnny. I asked Renjun but he told me it was private and told me to stop being a nosy bastard.” His hands run across his face, and Johnny exhales a breathy laugh, “You let student call you a nosy bastard?” 

Kun snickers, then, rolling his eyes in a manner assumed to be joking. “Renjun’s my son, but I still don’t let him call me a nosy bastard. Confiscated his phone. Now not only am I a nosy bastard, but also a tight ass. Teenagers and their language these days, it’s fucking shocking.”

Curse words falling free of Kun’s mouth – it's something that shocks Johnny’s eyes into briefly widening, before the surprise pulls free a bubbling laughter. As he chuckles, the man nods, teens today do have a lexicon that is “Fucking disgraceful.” 

They share laughter for a minute or two, before Johnny plugs his snorts with one of Kun’s biscuits, and nods for the man to continue. He does, having to breathe in a little deeper to calm his own fit of enjoyment, “Anyway, neither of them will explain why they fought, and since we can’t then prove it was reasonable cause... Donghyuck will be suspended.”

There’s a moment of silence, before Johnny withdraws another biscuit and the packet crinkles. He waves it around as he speaks; “I’m a bad dad-” Kun attempts to interject, but he’s silenced by a shaken head, “No, I am. Donghyuck told me so. Said I was a shit dad who never had time for him, and I guess he’s right. He’s gone completely off the rails, I should’ve let him live with his mother. Maybe then he’d actually feel loved, because obviously he doesn’t feel like I love him enough.” Johnny does. He loves his son more than he loves anybody, and Kun knows that. He can see that. The teacher leans across the desk, gently plucking the biscuit from the other’s hand and placing it on the table, taking his guest’s hands in his own, "Johnny, you’re a good dad. If you were a bad dad, you wouldn’t turn up when I called you in for these things. If you were a bad dad, you wouldn’t be so upset right now. If you were a bad dad, you wouldn’t care this much about what’s bothering your son. You’re a good dad, I think Donghyuck is just going through a rough time. You just need to let him come to you on his own accord. Let him approach you, instead of vice versa.” One hold relinquishes, as the teacher extends a thumb to swipe beneath the elder’s eye. It comes away damp. Johnny didn’t even realize he was crying. “You’re one of the best dads I’ve seen in this school, and trust me, I’ve seen a  _lot_ of dads.”

Johnny laughs.

* * *

 

“Here to confiscate all my stuff and ground me again?” Donghyuck is seated cross legged on the sofa, a laptop balanced in the alcove of his folded limbs and one of the purple earphones in his ear. Johnny never gave them him back, so he supposes the boy must’ve taken them from his room when he was unaware. Wily little shit.

“Here to call me a shit dad and accuse me of making your life complete shit?” Is the retort employed, and Donghyuck snorts. Johnny takes the absence of any aggressive tone as permission to take a seat beside his son, who immediately cranes the laptop screen away from his father. Suspicious. Very suspicious.

“You’re not doing that...” The boy folds the device in his lap over, and turns to his parent, “I’m making my life complete shit. I’m... I’m messing my life up. Renjun sees it. You see it. Kun sees it, and I’m hardly close to him, and if he can notice it, then anyone ca-” Johnny holds up a hand, head shaking as he blinks in delayed confusion, “You call Mr Qian – your  _teacher_  -  _Kun_?” Surely that’s disrespectful. It took Johnny a solid six meetings with the man before he started calling him Kun – and he’s  _older_ than the teacher. Donghyuck peers upwards in a way that suggests he believes his father to be slightly stupid. “He’s Renjun’s dad. I see him every time I go to Renjun’s. He bought me a McDonalds once. He’s a pretty cool guy, but I think he lowkey has a crush on you.” Johnny blanches, “Or some kind of weird obsession with you. Every time I went round to Renjun’s after you met him at that parent’s evening... He always asked how you were. And he asked me like, if you were seeing anyone, or whatever. But that was around the time you were dating that really fake lady,” Johnny rolls his eyes. He doesn’t even bother correcting his son. This lady  _was_ pretty fake, after all, “When I said you  _were_  dating someone, he got kinda sad, and then when you broke up, he heard me talking to Jun about it and got kinda... smiley. It was a little weird, not gonna lie. Isn’t that weird, dad? Him having a crush on you? Just guys having crushes on guys in general? That’s weird, right? It’s kinda wrong.” The boy’s gaze is fixed on his father’s features, and his lip is twisting. Johnny blinks rather rapidly, “You think there’s something wrong with guys having crushes on guys? Donghyuck, I did  _not_  raise you to be homophobic, that’s absolutely ridiculous. Guys having crushes on guys is completely normal, and it’s just as alright as girls having crushes on gu-” He’s cut off as a form effectively embeds into his stomach, and a grunt escapes. Two arms wrap around his middle, and Johnny raises a hand – lightly pressing it against his son’s back. The teen's form is shaking, and from the way Johnny's shirt was starting to feel a little damp, he was crying. Pretty hard.

“Hey? What’s up?” Pulling lightly at the curls spilling free of his son's head, he breathes out cold air against the skin at the back of his neck – a teasing way to coax his gaze upwards. “Donghyuckieee. Duckieee.” Finally lifting his head, the boy rubs at the red of his damp eyes with an oversized sleeve (come to mention it, Johnny doesn’t recognize this hoodie. He adds it to the suspicious items list, alongside the purple earphones), and coughs into his hand, “Renjun... He tried to get me to tell people this today, but I didn’t want to. That’s why I fought him. He was only trying to help me, but I... I didn’t  _want_ to and so I got angry and I...” his chest is rising and falling frantically, and so Johnny extends a hand to run through his son’s hair. Breathing in deeply, the boy reclines against his father, arms encircling his midriff, “I got so angry at everyone, at everything. Because I was anxious that everyone already knew, and I didn’t want anyone to know. That’s why I started behaving badly, because I thought that if I pushed everyone away, nobody would get close enough to find out what I didn’t want them to know.” Johnny simply listens. Hyuck... he needs to just  _talk_. “I was so, so,  _so_ angry. I was angry at you, because... Because I thought that if you knew, you’d hate me. So I was angry at you because I wanted to push you away. Because I thought that if I pushed you away, it wouldn’t hurt so much when you found out and when you hated me.” There are tears falling again, and a hand shifts from the brunette curls to wipe at the droplets streaming, “Dad, I... I like...” He chokes, and Johnny moves to push the boy away from his form – readjusting their seating plan so they can observe each other’s faces. “Donghyuck, I love you no matter what, you know that right? I’m your dad, I’m gonna look after you in every circumstance.”

There’s a wet laugh, and the boy wipes at his nose with the sleeve of the still unfamiliar hoodie,

“Okay, dad, I like boys. And I- Why are you laughing!?” 

Johnny is indeed laughing, and Donghyuck’s expression is exasperated. His father hunches over as he chuckles, hands clutching at his stomach. When he calms, his hands raise to grip the younger’s shoulders, and he leans forwards:

“Donghyuck, I like boys too.”

* * *

 

 

“It’s... It’s not  _Renjun_ that you like, right?” Johnny’s not sure why the idea of his son liking Kun’s son is one that doesn’t sit right with him – but it makes him feel weird. Bitter, almost.

“Ew, no, no!” Relief floods the pit of his stomach, “Definitely not. I... I have a boyfriend, actually,”

They’re situated on the sofa, Donghyuck’s legs are flung across his father’s lap, and he reclines comfortably. The elder cranes his head, eyebrows raised and mouth wide, “A  _boyfriend_? You got one before me? That’s a joke. It actually is. I’m gonna have to meet him now. Tell me about him. He gave you the earphones and the hoodie, right?”

The boy flushes, and sinks into the dark depths of the oversized garment he’s donned. Johnny assumed right, then. “It’s Mark. As in like, Doyoung and Jaehyun’s son Mark. Mark who’s one year older than me, Mark who I’ve known since I was born, Mark who's a dumb ass who's allergic to this sauce I really like but he still gets it with his fries because he knows I'll steal them. You  _have_ met him, dad. You basically helped raise him.”

Johnny pauses, as if allowing time for the impact of the words to actually settle in his mind, before launching at his son; prodding lightly at the teen to evoke peals of laughter, “You’re dating the son of my  _best friend’s_  and you don’t think to tell me? You  _will_  pay for this, Donghyuck!” More waves of laughter.

They’ll be okay. 

* * *

“Kun! Is everything okay? Is Donghyuck in trouble?”

There’s been a tight clench in his stomach ever since he received the call beckoning him into school. He’d really thought Donghyuck had been on the uphill climb – following their late-night conversation - and it’d been nearly two weeks since the school had contacted him for a meeting.It was weird, really, most parents dread the school inviting them in for a conversation – but Johnny Seo had grown almost forlorn at the fact he hadn’t been near the building for near enough two weeks. It’d gotten to the point that his heart had soared when he’d seen the caller identification that evening, before it promptly fell to the pit of his feet, as he realized this meant his son was in trouble.

“You have to believe me, I... I really thought he’d changed. I had a conversation with him, and I r-”

“Johnny, Donghyuck’s not in trouble.” Kun seems kind of on edge, and simply that fact makes Johnny kind of anxious. Kun is one of the single most put together people he’s every met; he doesn’t seem to be the type that’s edgy or nervous. It’s all incredibly out of character. “I called you for... This is super unprofessional of me, and I’m so sorry for wasting your time, but I... I called you for...  _personal_  reasons.” A breath is exhaled that Johnny didn’t even realize he was holding, and he notes that they’re oddly close – especially now that the office door’s been closed behind him. His back’s pressed against the oak, and Kun is, what? Maybe three inches away from him? At a stretch? Deep breath drawn in, Johnny’s tone is nearer a whisper, “And what personal reason would that be, Mr Qian?” 

They share trembling inhales and exhales, but when Kun speaks his next sentence, Johnny feels them both stop breathing; “I missed you, Mr Seo.”

And then they’re kissing, and it’s wonderful. It’s kind of clumsy, because neither of them has really done this for a while, and they’re out of practice – but it’s them, and it’s perfect because he has Kun, he’s  _holding_  Kun; cupping his cheeks between his hands. There’s a faint taste of peach and Johnny recalls the omniscient lip balm tucked into the teacher’s shirt pocket. He worries for his own lips. Are they chapped? Are they gross? Did he remember to brush his teeth this morning? But then Kun tugs at the fabric of his shirt, and he forgets how to worry. 

He has Kun. He has Kun in his hands, in his heart, in his life.  

And when the two finally separate, breathless and giddy, Johnny breathes out soft laughter. If his life is a joke, if  _he’s_ a joke, then it’s the most perfectly crafted joke in this world – and it’s guaranteed the gift of everyone’s approval and laughter.

“I missed you too, Mr Qian.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally intended to focus on johnkun and their progression as a couple, but i ended up focusing more on donghyuck and johnny's relationship and interactions,,, i guess i could write a prequel of sorts that presents johnkun falling for each other (including the first meeting at the parents evening where kun falls in luuurrvvee). im definitely writing a prequel that shows hyuck and mark getting together, as well as a sequel that features johnny meeting mark as 'donghyuck's boyfriend' & that would probably feature dojae so uhhh look forwards to that ig


End file.
